


Wyrd

by WildCat (SpiritLock)



Series: Random Musings [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attraction, Bonding, Canon Divergence, F/M, Humor, Lore Divergence, Sexual Tension, Unconventional Relationship, Weirdness, Were-kind, Wyrd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-08 08:56:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16426316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiritLock/pseuds/WildCat
Summary: Evi Trevelyan did not expect to have a normal life because she was weird, other. Cullen Rutherford expected his life to be one dedicated solely to duty.Yet a chance encounter with a stranger showed them not everything they had come to expect from their lives was fated to be.





	1. Evi

**Author's Note:**

> * edits in chapter one since previous posting*

While contemplating which cheese she fancied on the market stall, Evi suddenly became conscious of eyes on her. She searched around, spotting a man by the next stall watching her keenly. A well-built, ruggedly handsome man who dressed like the villagers here, though his stance and the way his sword belt was strapped suggested he was a soldier, or at least had military training. 

She was a stranger here, so it was no wonder she would attract some attention. It was how he stared that gave Evi pause. Not unfamiliar; she just didn’t see it that often now. Her calling led to a healthy assortment of scars which put most men off. Without them she would have been an attractive prospect for any potential suitor. But Evi no longer thought of courtship, or a normal life with a family and a home. 

_It isn’t your wryd to have a normal life,_ she reminded herself.

No matter her admirer was shockingly attractive and stared at her as though he could as easily take her up against a wall as seduce her with tender caresses, it was the wrong time of month for even a random tumble.

She sighed. _Focus, Evi, you have work to do._

Looking back down, she snagged a small cheese wheel and paid for it. Next stop the bakery for a warm fresh loaf. With butter, cheese, apples and chocolate, it would do for a meal. Enough to see her through until she went hunting tonight. 

_My wyrd is to be weird,_ she half joked to her mother when it manifested.

As if adolescence wasn’t sufficiently troubling with emotions raging inside, making you feel as if you’d gone insane, Evi had an additional burden. Her heritage. Like magic, it ran in bloodlines, though not always expressed. Generations could go by without manifestations, and nearly an age had passed since the last one. Her siblings turned out normal, so her parents were hopeful it skipped this generation as well. 

Until she was born. 

Developing more rapidly than her older siblings, they realised what she would become. All were-kind had accelerated development, and she was no different. Except for hitting puberty. The human side of her came through on that, allowing her some semblance of normality until she turned thirteen. For a while after that, for one week of every month, she was ostensibly ‘sent away for her health’. In reality, for three nights that week she was locked into the dungeons underneath their castle for her safety.

It took years for Evi to attain focus and discipline. The transformation couldn’t be prevented but could be mastered. Evi learned to do what her ancestors had before her, use her curse for good. The monster inside her was honed into a monster hunter. 

Tonight, it was the first full moon of the month, and Evi had an unusually aggressive bereskarn to track down in the nearby forest. From what she overheard, it had newly taken up residence there. It attempted to attack some villagers gathering mushrooms, and only the intervention of a local militiaman scaring it off saved them from a worse outcome.

She glanced towards the man, to find him still watching her. This time Evi couldn’t tear herself away from his gaze, inexplicably drawn to those amber eyes which seemed to flash, her trance only broken by a saucy smirk on his face. A smirk that held promises, that made her feel like a woman, not simply a hunter…or a monster. No matter how fleeting the sensation would be, it was welcome. She turned away, smiling to herself.

 _At another time, I would have absolutely jumped your bones,_ she thought, heading to the baker’s.

Evi didn’t notice the man follow her, discreetly at a distance.

*****

 _This was doubtless its territory,_ Evi thought as she crouched to investigate the tracks near the edge of the hill.

They were a day old as was the mass of excrement the bereskarn had offloaded. The metabolism of blighted creatures ran faster, hotter than ordinary people or animals. Not dissimilar to were-kind, except were-kind were never blighted. Something in their blood caused them to be immune to the Blight. Fortunate really. When claws and fangs were your weapons, being spattered with blood or ingesting it was unavoidable. 

Whereas Grey Wardens were feted for killing darkspawn and blighted animals, her kind were reviled and hunted, treated no better than their prey. With most Grey Wardens wiped out years earlier at Ostagar, and numbers still comparatively few, she chose to help by eradicating the corrupted animals left in the Blight’s wake. As soon as she could, Evi headed to Ferelden where she could be of use _and_ be anonymous. Too many wagging tongues in Ostwick as to why the youngest Trevelyan remained unwedded. 

Evi looked up at the sky. Dusk was falling, and the moon would soon rise to its fullest. Time to return to the cave she scouted out and prepare. She rose, fingers settling on the new pommel of her sword. A firm, round pommel to replace the old one that was dented fighting off bandits. 

A thought bumped its way into her head and she grinned. 

_I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a firm...round...pommel,_ she sighed, distracted imagining what the man at the market would look like naked. 

Probably amazing, judging by the shape of his body, and likely to have ample strength and endurance. The fleeting sensation had not been so fleeting. Something about him bothered at her, like an itch which wouldn’t go away. It made her want to find him again. Odd for such a brief encounter.

Her distraction proved her undoing. Too late she heard the warning.

“Move!” shouted a man’s voice. “MOVE!”

Thundering hooves were heading in her direction. Rams, too many rams, came crashing through the thicket pursued by a massive bear. Evi vainly sought a way out. Yet wherever she moved to, she wouldn’t escape the horde bearing down on her. 

Mindlessly hurtling forwards, they took her with them off the ridge. Tree branches slowed her descent a little, but she still landed hard onto the forest floor, a snapping, shooting pain in her left arm. She then rolled into a shallow pool, her head striking a rock. Sensing she would lose consciousness, Evi struggled to drag her head out of the water before she drowned.

From the ridge above, the sound of fighting filled the air; a bear growling and a man yelling as metal struck flesh and bone. 

Slipping into darkness, her last thought was… _that’ll teach you to fantasise about men with firm round pommels…_

*****

Evi woke feeling groggy, and aware of the pain in her left arm. She groaned, seeing her arm splinted. It would reset when she changed but was a hindrance in the meantime. At least the bruising was lessening thanks to her capacity to heal quickly. However, scars would remain, she was part human after all.

“Here,” a voice said comfortingly. “Drink this.”

She peered up to see him leaning over her, the sandy haired man from the market, holding a flask of familiar liquid. Evi sat up, and took it from him, gulping down the contents. The healing and pain relief would take effect soon. Only when done did Evi realise she was naked, and hastily covered her breasts with the blanket. 

_Naked…he must have undressed me and splinted my arm. Remarkably well too, for a field dressing._

Seeing her reaction, the man removed his shirt and offered it to her. He then turned away, giving Evi time to dress before sitting back down at the fire. Odd really, since he’d already seen everything.

“You were soaked through when I found you,” he explained apologetically, a hint of a blush as his hand found the back of his neck. “The night was cold and…you might have caught a chill.”

His embarrassment made him even more endearing. He may have removed her clothes, but he was plainly no creep and deserved gratitude for the rescue.

“Thank you,” she acknowledged seeing him nod, then raised her left arm, smiling. “You’ve done this before.”

“Once or twice,” he conceded, relaxing as he smiled back. “It’s easier to do when someone is unconscious.”

 _Unconscious. Of course. How long?_

Evi scanned her surroundings. They were in the cave she discovered, the entrance up ahead, light spilling in. 

_Daylight, so all night._

Lucky for him; not so lucky if he stayed into tonight. Getting knocked out or taking a heavy sleeping draught could impede the transformation for maybe one night, but it was like holding back a dam. Eventually it burst through, and she couldn’t risk being around him when she changed. One of them could die when he learned what she was, and more likely it would be him. Even if done in self-defence, killing the man who rescued her would be extremely bad form.

She evidently couldn’t throw him out after what he’d done, so _she_ had leave before nightfall. 

“Would you like some stew?” he asked, lifting the lid of the pot hanging over the fire. 

It smelt beyond delicious, doubtless because Evi hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon.

“Oh, yes, please,” she accepted gratefully, watching as he ladled some into a wooden bowl, passing it to her with a hefty chunk of bread.

“There’s not much I’m afraid,” he apologised. “The pot is meant for one…”

“It’s very welcome nevertheless,” she reassured him, tearing off a piece of bread and scooping up a mouthful of what was surprisingly tasty stew. 

The rest she practically wolfed down, her hunger accentuating her appetite. Most Fereldan inns made the most appalling grey looking stew, so she opted for the roasts instead. Evi never had much call for staying in people’s homes, so assumed it was some strange Fereldan tradition. Evidently, she was mistaken.

“I’m Cullen, by the way,” he said, introducing himself.

“Ei,” she mumbled incoherently, with a mouthful of stew and bread. She hastily swallowed and apologised. “Sorry, I’m Evi.”

 _Maker, Evi, your mother would have a fit._ She could hear Mama’s teasing voice. _The manners of a barbarian, child._

Cullen just smiled sympathetically. His warm expression, her belly treated to proper food, and the soothing effects of pain relief left Evi's guard down when he asked the question, and she inadvertently blurted out the truth.

“Why were you in the forest?”

“Hunting a bereskarn.” Too late she realised what it sounded like.

“Hunting a bereskarn? Alone?” he challenged, raising an eyebrow more in puzzlement than shock.

It should have been a clue, but her mind was spinning, trying to come up with something less absurd. A young woman hunting dangerous prey alone was not credible.

“What I meant was tracking it, finding its lair,” she added, praying it would be enough. “I’m a tracker.”

It wasn’t a lie, just not the whole truth. Thankfully it seemed sufficient.

“Oh, I see,” he acknowledged.

Suddenly Evi realised. _First the market and now here. It could be coincidence, but…_

“Why were you in the forest?” she inquired, observing him carefully.

Cullen didn’t miss a beat, matching her gaze. “I come hunting here every month or so, for game.”

“Oh,” she remarked, sensing he was being truthful. “Lucky for me you were here then.”

“I prefer to think it was fate,” he declared, his tone lower, eyes smouldering, and the same slight upturn in the side of his mouth.

Again, Evi found herself drawn to him, the tie between them stronger than before. What she mistakenly assumed was desire, she now realised was hunger. This time her reaction was different…and immediate, catching her out. Heart racing, breathing heavier, face flushed, and a surge of intense need low and deep inside. 

He was…she wanted…

 _No, no, no, no, no…what are you thinking,_ she chided, forcing herself to look away and recover some semblance of sense. _This is irrational and dangerous. Get your things and leave before it’s too late._

Evi vainly looked around for her clothes, but they were nowhere to be found. What she did see, was that the light outside had faded. Night was about to fall, and she was in a cave with a stranger who appeared to have seduction in mind. He had no idea he was playing with fire.

_Shit, shit, shit..._

She pushed herself onto her feet, still dressed in his shirt. Even though she sought to be polite, Evi’s irritated urgency showed in her voice. 

“Cullen, please believe me, I am genuinely thankful for your aid, but I really need my clothes. I should head back to the village before it grows too dark.”

“Is that wise?” he inquired, frowning. He stood up, undoubtedly to prevent her leaving. “You’d be safer here.”

 _Neither of us will be safer here,_ she thought, anger flaring inside. 

Panic and anger blended into an adrenaline rush, triggering what she dreaded. The dam started to collapse. Fire surged through her blood and bones, fangs and claws straining to pierce through her flesh, hair itching under her skin ready to erupt. Sometimes she could hold back the change briefly, but not tonight. The animal part of her sorely wanted out and wasn’t inclined to wait. All she could do was try to make him leave.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she insisted, issuing a growling, guttural command, “LEAVE. NOW.”

Far from being scared, Cullen simply smiled. Only then did Evi realise she may be the one in trouble.

_Maker, what if he’s a hunter of more than game?_

If he was a hunter, she was the one likely to die. Until the transformation was over, she was defenceless. And suppressing one change made the ensuing one worse…and lengthier.

Her world suddenly narrowed as the brutal, burning anguish of metamorphosis took over, forcing Evi onto all fours, ripping off his shirt and the splint as if they were thin parchment. Her body rippled and quaked as she became something neither human nor animal. Bones shifted and crunched inside, claws and fangs punctured her skin like blades, fur forced its way out like thousands of tiny needles. It seemed like forever, her cries of agony becoming howls of pain, until finally, it was over.

Evi snapped her gaze onto the man, her whole being ready to pounce, to defend herself to the death. 

What she saw was the very last thing she expected to see.

_Oh._

Where Cullen had been standing, stood one of her kind…who was…smiling. Or the closest thing to it, his powerful canines shining brightly.

_Ohhh._

Now she understood why he didn’t run, and why he blocked her from leaving. He wasn’t hunting her, he was protecting her.

Evi stood, and the two were-beasts faced one another. Her dark hair turned to ebony fur, shimmering black as shadows in the night; his sandy hair turned to golden fur, glimmering like dappled sunlight in the fire’s radiance. She’d never met another of her kind and was awestruck by how magnificent he was. Before, she was irresistibly drawn to his human self, but now, seeing _him_ , knowing what he truly was, she lost her heart to him.

Evi’s mouth opened into the equivalent of a smile, fangs glinting. Seeing her reaction, Cullen then spoke. His voice was no longer human, words punctuated by snaps of his jaws, yet she heard him perfectly. 

“A were-cat. I never expected that,” he observed, staring down at her.

Evi shot out her claws and swiftly sheathed them. To prove she was equally lethal, no matter her size. Cullen may be stronger, but she was faster. 

He came to her, settling his paws on her shoulders, the tips of his claws stroking her shoulder blades. The sensation was akin to caressing. It made Evi purr throatily, evoking a low rumbling growl from Cullen. 

“You are...breath-taking,” he told her.

“You are magnificent,” she responded, words layered with clicks of her teeth. “I’ve never come across another of our kind before.” 

“I only realised that after we…met,” he admitted.

All this time he knew who…what she was. Unlike her, he must have seen others of their kind.

She cocked her head. “How did you know what I was?”

“Your scent, I caught it when the breeze blew over you," he revealed. “But, because some of our kind don’t like meeting their own, we extend a visual greeting first. A chance to accept or refuse contact.”

_The flash. That was what it meant. I didn’t realise._

“You accepted and refused,” he continued, glancing down. “I wouldn’t ordinarily persist…but you were…captivating. I had to find out if…”

She finished the words for him. “…I felt the same?”

“Yes.” 

A single claw tapped a slight, nervous beat while he waited, wondering if his declaration would be reciprocated. Evi rested her paw on Cullen’s, purring softly. 

“Yes.”

Her acceptance elicited a quiet rumble in reply, akin to a relieved sigh. He glanced aside and when he faced her, she sensed there was more. Something he was hesitant to voice. As her sister often repeated, Evi was never one to be backward in coming forward.

“Cullen,” she called, catching his surprise when she used his name. “This. Us. What is it?”

His claws pressed a little firmer causing her to mewl. “Were-folk rarely bond _together_ like this...” he paused, tentative, “...but when our kind become bond-mates… it’s for _life._ ” 

She stared at him, blinking. He watched her, still, his claws quiet.

Ever since Evi was old enough, she understood her calling would be her life, and that meant a life alone. Now here she was, bonded for life with someone she only met yesterday in Honnleath. A village she only visited because she learned there was a golem statue there and was curious to see it. This was contrary to everything she had come to believe. Yet it felt…right. 

_A life no longer alone because of what you are. To be with someone who understands because they are the same. To have a life…with him._

She wanted that life, she wanted a home and family, and most of all, she wanted him. 

Evi stared into his enchanting amber eyes. “For life,” she swore, seeing his eyes melt.

“For life,” Cullen promised, resting the side of his head against hers, musk from their scent glands mingling as they marked one another.

His scent on her, the feel of hot breath and cool fur; the effect was intoxicating, arousing a powerful hunger she never knew before. She rubbed her body against his, her purr deep and demanding. She wanted all of him, body and soul. His reaction told her he wanted the same, his claws pushing through her fur, marking her flesh as he dragged her hard against him, his breath on her neck. Her head tilted back, she offered the most vulnerable part of herself to him.

Suddenly, he snarled and shoved them apart, snout wrinkling with jaws wide open and teeth exposed. His eyes were glassy and cold; his breathing fierce. 

She froze. Instinct told her if she moved, she would be prey. Time seemed stretched until his breathing began to slow, warmth returning to his eyes as his jaws shut with a quiet snap. The tension in her muscles eased sensing it was safe. He saw _her_ once more. 

Their minds may retain human reasoning, but this was a sharp warning how their animal natures could nullify that when pushed too far. And she almost pushed him too far.

His shoulders hunched, and he reached out his paw to her warily. “Forgive me.”

She took a step nearer and settled her paw in his. “It was _my_ fault.”

They gazed into each other’s eyes, amber meeting green, both sorry.

“I can’t...not when changed…because…” he stumbled as though it was painful to say.

“…because you might kill me,” she concluded sadly.

He lifted his head in affirmation. “But…when we’re human again...” he offered, his proposition unmistakable.

Evi risked teasing out a claw, lightly grazing his paw. Cullen’s mouth opened wider, baring his teeth. But this time his eyes were tender. He was telling her he liked that. She offered a slow blink and moved a little closer.

“So,” she pondered. “What _shall_ we do until the morning?”

He looked to to the cave opening and back to her. “As we both came here to hunt the bereskarn, maybe we should get to work?”

Evi gave a loud, haunting yowl to indicate her approval, joined by Cullen’s rich, resonant roar. Letting go, they dropped onto all fours and dashed out of the cave together. Excitement for the hunt surged through them as they headed into the trees, bathed in light from a hunter’s moon.

The smells of the forest flowed over her nose, her senses fully alive and whiskers tingling with anticipation. And this time she wasn’t alone. It almost made her yowl again with joy.

 _It isn’t your wyrd to have a normal life._

Her wyrd was to be weird, and she _loved_ where her strange life had brought her. With her bond-mate, she finally had a future to look forward to, not simply days to count away, alone. Most precious of all was what she never imagined having; a future with love and companionship.

There was an unearthly roar in the distance, the sickly sound of a corrupted bear. A reminder of why they were here.

_Focus, Evi, we have work to do._


	2. Cullen

Cullen found the stranger at one of the market stalls. She was shorter than he expected, her cloak and boots looked well-made and worn with use. She carried a sturdy backpack, and he detected a sword jutting out her cloak as she leaned forward.

He sighed. 

Bran would be better at this, charming information out of people. But Bran was a day away with the others on a hunt for a pack of blighted wolves. So here he was, stuck with a task that wasn’t his forte. 

“Alain thinks she might be a hunter. So, go charm her and find out,” the Captain instructed. “If she is, we keep her occupied for a few days, and then send her on her way.”

 _Charm her._ Cullen’s sceptical expression made Captain Andrek chuckle.

“Just give her that look, Cullen. You know, the one that gets the girls…” Andrek purposely paused, “…going.” A waggle of the eyebrows stressed his meaning.

Cullen rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he groaned, heading out of the cabin.

Andrek was right to be cautious though, showing up on a full moon was suspicious, and they could ill afford problems. Adric and Louis were training the youngsters tonight, while it was his responsibility to track down the bereskarn before it ventured into the village. So, if she was a hunter, a few days in the cells on some imagined breach of the byelaws would keep them, and her, out of harm’s way. Afterwards, she would be ‘invited’ to leave.

Wedged between the Frostbacks and the Korcari Wilds, for ages past Honnleath protected its were-kind because they guarded the village. Were-kind were reviled and hunted elsewhere, but not in Honnleath. Here they were accepted as most families either had or were related to weres. For generations, older weres trained the youngsters, passing on their wisdom and experience, equipping the young ones for roles in the militia. A small price to pay to live in safety _and_ keep their families secure. 

Just as his father would have. Many families lost loved ones during the Blight, with weres hit hardest. Since a child, Cullen looked forward to protecting his community, pursuing his calling even more keenly after his father’s death. His dedication ensured a rapid rise to take his father’s place as second in command. 

But his strengths lay in planning and organisation, security and hunts. _Not_ charming people.

Cullen watched the stranger. She moved lightly, gracefully, her long dark plait bobbing side to side as she walked. Straightening his tunic and sword belt, he headed to the stall beside where she stopped, to take a better look. Even though he only saw her from the side, the scars on her chin and neck indicated a hunter. The question was; what kind? 

Suddenly, she twisted her head to face him as though she sensed his gaze.

_Maker’s breath!_

Although the scar stretching from her forehead partway down her cheek shouted out, her stunning eyes captured his attention, awaking a yearning deep inside. Thoughts of his task faded as he stared, mesmerised. She was beautiful, and captivating, and somehow…lonely. 

_Is this it? They said I would know…_

Unlike most weres who had bonded at his age, Cullen hadn’t found his bond-mate yet. A few never did or bonded to someone who didn’t return their devotion. Some of those found a companion instead. But the thought of living with someone who may grow to love him when he could never love them back seemed unkind. Cullen came to accept he may face a life of duty, alone.

The stranger sighed wearily and turned away, just as a breeze gently wafted over her bringing with it the smell of her perfume…and a familiar scent. Faint, but there. This woman wasn’t a hunter, at least not the sort they assumed. 

Cullen almost gasped aloud. _She’s…were-kind. And…female._

Female were-kind were rarer than males; the last one born here was his maternal grandmother, lost battling darkspawn alongside his father. Nearly sixty years of age, Granna Mae never shied away from a fight. 

The sheer chance that their visitor chose Honnleath was...

Reality suddenly sank in.

A female were in his village, and he behaved like a barbarian, rudely gawking at her. No doubt she believed he was staring because of her scars. 

_Not a good start, Cullen,_ he sighed. _Now she thinks you’re impolite._

His poor manners aside, it was possible she may one of their kind uncomfortable among their own. A few used Honnleath as a safe place to procure supplies and move on, but she was new. He had to be cautious, signal first and wait for her response. 

Cullen waited until she paid for the cheese before taking a step closer. Again, she turned as though sensing him. He signalled with a flash of the eyes. This time, she stared at _him_ , a pulse flickering in her neck, her lips slightly agape. Lips he could imagine pressed against his, his arm around her waist. 

Cullen waited anxiously as he held her gaze. Her pupils darkened, and a flash came in reply. 

_Yes…she said yes._

In that moment, the lonely future he envisaged was overturned by hope, and Cullen couldn’t stop a knowing smirk breaking out. But then she walked away, leaving him confused, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he stared after her. 

_She accepted…and refused?_

It dawned on him that perhaps she had never come across her own kind before, or perhaps her initial response was unintentional. He _had_ to find out, his future depended on it. He just wasn’t certain how to...yet.

Cullen discretely followed her.

*****************

Hiding in the bushes, Cullen watched as she crouched, studying the bereskarn tracks. It seemed he wasn’t the only one intent on locating it, likely she overhead people talking about it and decided to investigate.

She readied for a hunt as he would, searching out a safe place, coincidentally one of the caves they used. It had a narrow entrance restricting access, perfect for the metamorphosis when their kind were most vulnerable. She discarded her outer clothes and backpack, clad lightly as she tracked. It was obvious now she worked alone, convincing Cullen she was raised apart from other weres. But judging by the practice session he observed, someone schooled her well in martial skills. 

Beautiful, were-kind _and capable_. She was more than he could have wished for in a bond-mate. _If_ she felt the same.

Word about her arrival had doubtless spread through the village by now. Andrek was reassured to hear the youngsters were safe but amazed to discover who their visitor was. When Cullen said he planned to keep an eye on her anyhow, Andrek remarked wryly ‘maybe the little lion cub has finally found himself a playmate.’ Rather than groan at Andrek’s teasing as he usually did, Cullen just smiled.

He didn’t care who knew it. He was hers…if she wanted him. 

Cullen watched as she rose, hand on her sword, a saucy smile breaking out as her fingers suggestively caressed the pommel. He couldn’t tear his gaze away, reflexively swallowing as his imagination ran wild, fantasising her hand somewhere else altogether. 

His distraction meant he didn’t catch the impending danger. Too late he noticed the ground rumble. He turned to see a horde of rams hurtling past, fleeing from a massive bear. 

_She_ was right in their path. 

Cullen ran forward, yelling. “Move!” And again, louder, “MOVE!”

She sought an escape but had nowhere to run. His stomach turned over as the horde raced blindly off the ridge taking her with them. 

“No!” he shouted. _Please, Maker, don’t let her die._

With the rams gone, the bear latched onto him. If she was alive, he had to help her and couldn’t waste time with the bear. He had to convince it he wasn’t an easy target. Cullen stood his ground as the bear charged, jumping out of the way before it reached him, and striking a blow on its hind quarters as it ran past, metal slicing through flesh, hitting bone. The bear turned and came for him again. This time he rolled and caught its leg. 

Thankfully, the blows were enough to chase it off. Cullen sheathed his sword and dashed down the slope to the lower forest floor. He discovered a carnage of rams heaped atop one another, at first fearing she was underneath, crushed. Then he spotted her white shirt in the pool but couldn’t tell if she was unconscious…or dead.

Cullen rushed to her, desperately checking for a pulse. It was faint, yet steady. He breathed a sigh of relief.

_Thank the Maker._

Pulling her from the water, he carefully examined her. Apart from a gash on her forehead, the only other major injury was a fractured left forearm. Weres could take considerably more physical damage than humans; even so, she was fortunate to have escaped this lightly. Their capacity to heal quickly would take care of the cut and any bruising; and he could splint the fracture. 

The cave was the safest place for tonight, and they had stores hidden there. Cullen cautiously hoisted her over his shoulder, then scanned the sky. It was nearly moonrise. There was time to reach the cave, but he would have to delay his transformation long enough to remove her wet clothes and splint her arm. After surviving that fall, he didn’t want to lose her to a chill. 

Arriving at the cave, Cullen sensed the burn beginning inside. He retrieved bedding and blankets and set about removing her clothes. Her breathing sounded shallower than before, and her skin felt cooler than it should be; getting her warm again was essential. He worked as fast as he dared, but what he saw when he took off her shirt stopped him dead.

_Andraste preserve me._

Across the right side of her torso was a large, dotted, half-moon scar. This wasn’t her first bereskarn.

_How is she even alive!?_

He assumed she hunted like them, a combination of strategy and their capabilities. Now he worried she charged in, relying on strength and speed. She couldn’t continue like this, _hunting…alone_. Even if she didn’t return his devotion, he had to persuade her to remain in Honnleath. Safer there than outside on her own, where Maker knew what other danger she would end up in. 

Cullen groaned as fire flared inside reminding him to be quick; his other self was restless and didn’t appreciate being kept waiting. Once she was undressed and dried, he splinted her arm, and wrapped two blankets around her. She needed more warmth, but there was insufficient time to make a fire. There was only one way.

He hastily undressed allowing his were-self release. There was always pain, but years of training taught him how to let it flow through, lessening the discomfort. Fighting, or struggling to control the transformation made the process harder, lengthier and more uncomfortable. ‘The quicker the better’, his father used to say. This change inevitably hurt more for the delay; but once over, the pain was gone.

Cullen stood, flexing his paws. 

When her temperature stabilised, he could risk fetching a ram. He hadn’t eaten for hours and needed to feed, to take care of her. The remainder he could cook tomorrow.

Tentatively, he sniffed the air. Her scent was stronger, but manageable. He lay down beside her wrapping his body around hers, mindful to keep his claws firmly sheathed. Her breathing had deepened, becoming steady and rhythmic. She would sleep for several hours while her body repaired itself; however, missing a transformation would make the subsequent one problematic. He couldn’t help her, but he could be here for her. 

His teeth bared in a small smile as it struck him. 

This morning began like any other morning. Now, here he was bonded to a strange woman whose name he didn’t even know, and tomorrow he would find out who she truly was.

 _It was weird where fate could take you,_ he mused.

***************

Cullen sat by the fire, studying the stranger who held his future in her hands.

In the morning he made a fire to keep them both warm, grabbing a few hours’ sleep while she slept. Waking, he found her still soundly asleep, so prepared some stew and grilled strips of ram meat to munch on. 

The rest of the time he sat thinking about her, and about the future. Were-kind bonding with one another was unusual; tales spoke of how all offspring would be weres, and stronger than those born from mixed bloodlines. If she felt as he did, their children could bring new blood into a village hit hard by the loss of many of its defenders. They couldn’t change the present, but they help secure Honnleath’s future safety.

Cullen was distracted planning ahead…until he realised he hadn’t considered what she might want. He knew nothing of her, her past, or her motivations. Maybe she chose the life she led for a reason, maybe she didn’t wish to set down roots. She had survived alone so far, albeit precariously.

He needed to find out. 

Cullen saw her finally stir with a groan, and took her the flask of water and potion he readied beforehand. 

“Here,” he offered, sounding calmer than he was. “Drink this.”

She peered up at him, the blanket slipping down as she sat up to drink the draught. He waited, forgetting that although he spent the night taking care of her, she didn’t know that yet. Only when she covered herself did he realise what it looked like. 

_What were you thinking? Now she’ll assume you’re some letch on top of being ill mannered._

With her clothes outside and little else available, he took off his shirt and gave it to her. Strangely she seemed less embarrassed than he was. He turned his back, allowing her to dress. 

_She could be your future and you’ve done nothing but convince her you’re some barbarian. You need to do better than this._

When he figured it was safe, he sat back down by the fire and sought to make amends. 

“You were soaked through when I found you,” he explained apologetically, feeling warmth in his cheeks, and involuntarily reaching for the back of his neck. “The night was cold and…you might have caught a chill.”

For the first time he heard her speak. Her voice was deeper than he imagined, but melodious, and with an accent he couldn’t place.

“Thank you,” she nodded appreciatively.

Cullen nodded back, thanking the Maker she wasn’t offended.

She lifted her left arm, her face lighting up with a smile. A smile he wanted to see for the rest of his life.

“You’ve done this before,” she noted.

“Once or twice,” he admitted, sensing the tension ebb away as he smiled back at her. “It’s easier to do when someone is unconscious.”

She glanced around the cave orientating herself, her gaze fixing on the light falling through the entrance. He could imagine what she was thinking; it was daytime, so she’d slept through the night. Although light now, dusk would fall shortly, and she needed to eat otherwise the transformation would weaken her. Hopefully he could impress her with his stew. Cullen’s parents had the forethought to prepare all their children, whether were-kind or human, to look after themselves. 

“Would you like some stew?” he offered, lifting the lid of the pot. Even he had to admit it turned out well with the limited ingredients.

“Oh, yes, please,” she accepted gratefully, following his movements with hungry eyes.

He had snacked on grilled meat, so gave her most of the stew with a sizable piece of bread from the partial loaf he found. He took the remainder of the stew with what was left of the bread.

“There’s not much I’m afraid,” he apologised. “The pot is meant for one…”

…of us, he intended to say, but caught himself. Weres easily ate double that of a human. 

_One thing at a time._

“It’s very welcome nevertheless,” she enthused, her focus more on the food than him.

Cullen watched as she broke off a piece of bread to scoop up the stew, devouring it with such pleasure it made him glad, and hopeful it went some way to redeeming his earlier blunders. He waited until she was virtually done before introducing himself.

“I’m Cullen, by the way,” he announced.

“Ei,” she responded, still with a mouthful of food. Her eyes widened, and she quickly swallowed. “Sorry, I’m Evi.”

Cullen couldn’t help smiling at how funny she was, more concerned at her lapse in manners than being seen naked by a strange man. But he finally learned her name.

_Evi._

Evi used the last piece of bread to wipe the bowl clean and gave a deep, contented exhale. Sensing she was relaxed, he took the opportunity to check something which bothered him since finding the scar.

“Why were you in the forest?” he inquired, expecting her to be cagey.

Her reply was unusually forthcoming. “Hunting a bereskarn.” 

That one sentence confirmed what he suspected. 

“Hunting a bereskarn? Alone?” came out more firmly than intended, flustering her. 

Her eyes darted to the side anxiously as she sought to explain. “What I meant was tracking it, finding its lair. I’m a tracker.”

“Oh, I see,” he nodded calmly, as though her answer reassured him. 

It hadn’t, but he didn’t want to agitate her more. Luckily, it worked. She settled, then looked into his eyes, firing the question back at him. He was ready. 

“Why were you in the forest?” 

Cullen didn’t waver, holding her gaze. “I come hunting here every month or so, for game.” 

It was the truth, just not the whole truth.

“Oh.” Evi mulled this over for a few seconds. “Lucky for me you were here then,” she remarked, with a slight upturn in the corner of her mouth. 

That little half-smile was too tempting, bolstering his courage to try again.

“I prefer to think it was fate,” he smirked, deliberately emphasising the words and drawing her gaze with a slower, more muted signal.

Evi's response was immediate and intense, taking him by surprise. Her eyes turned dark, signalling furiously as a flush crept from her neck into her face, her breathing erratic. Cullen understood what was happening, he just hadn’t imagined such a forceful reaction. Nor was he prepared for his response, a rapidly growing need in his breeches threatening to make itself conspicuous. 

She was…he wanted…

Suddenly she looked away, and Cullen closed his eyes, silently sighing in relief, _and_ frustration. Clearly she was attracted to him, but he couldn’t tell if she was bonding. This was not as straightforward as he hoped.

 _Just tell her the truth._

He opened his eyes to find Evi on her feet anxiously scanning the entrance, hands twitching impatiently. She tried to be polite, but her exasperation was palpable.

“Cullen, please believe me, I am genuinely thankful for your aid, but I really need my clothes. I should head back to the village before it grows too dark.”

Had he startled her? Or was she frightened of being seen? Whatever spooked her, he couldn’t let her go outside. She was on the verge of changing.

“Is that wise?” he frowned. He stood to block her path. “You’d be safer here.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she insisted, losing control, a growl in her voice warning the onset. “LEAVE. NOW.”

Cullen smiled in relief, thankful it was too late. Her panicked expression was soon eclipsed by anguish as she sank onto all fours. He swiftly abandoned his remaining clothes to let his were-self out; this time easier because he welcomed it. Now he had to wait.

He anticipated her metamorphosis would be problematic, but unprepared for how agonising it was. This was not simply the consequence of losing one night; the way she desperately struggled to contain her transformation suggested Evi was never taught how to accept the change. When finally over, he felt immense relief she was no longer in pain, but seeing this strengthened his determination to make her stay. 

As human Evi was beautiful, but as were, she was…breath-taking. Weres could be many creatures, but to his astonishment, she was feline like him. Small yet sinewy and lithe, her lustrous black fur seeming to throw off sparks in the fire's glow. Unlike him though, she was built for stealth, a shadow hunter. 

She was also poised to attack. 

Cullen bared his teeth in a smile to reassure her, hoping she would recognise his gesture. She stared at him, her expression veering from resolve to bewilderment, then realisation. She stood, and the two were-kind faced one other’s true selves. Cullen’s gaze met hers and she smiled, slightly tilting her head and her hip, like a coy invitation.

 _Was she…flirting with him?_

As were, he had no reference to gauge against, but she seemed to be waiting for a response.

“A were-cat. I never expected that,” he said, blurting out the first thing that came into his head.

Evi shot out her claws and swiftly sheathed them. At first, he thought she read his remark as condescending, until he realised she was smiling, her eyes slightly narrowed. Human or were, _that_ was acceptance.

 _This is your chance. Tell her what you feel._

Cullen went to her, placing his paws on her shoulders, the tips of his claws stroking her shoulder blades. He hoped she would understand it as a symbol of affection. He could feel her deep resonant purr, a stimulating reverberation passing from her body to his, reflexively making him growl. 

“You are...breath-taking,” he told her.

“You are _magnificent_ ,” she replied. The way she said magnificent sent a shiver down his spine. “I’ve never come across another of our kind before,” she added, affirming what he believed. 

Raised amongst his own, Cullen couldn’t imagine how isolating life was for her. Relying on her strength of will to endure, mastering her abilities without proper guidance. And if her actions here were an indication, Evi’s instinct was to protect people, many of whom would take her life if they caught her in were form. Not in Honnleath though.

“I only realised that after we…met,” he granted. 

Evi inclined her head, curious. “How did you know what I was?”

 _She had so much to learn._

“Your scent, I caught it when the breeze blew over you,” Cullen explained. “But, because some of our kind don’t like meeting their own, we extend a visual greeting first. A chance to accept or refuse contact.”

There was a flicker of understanding.

“You accepted and refused,” he continued, glancing down. _This is it, tell her._ “I wouldn’t ordinarily persist…but you were…captivating. I had to find out if…” 

“…I felt the same?” she offered quietly, as though reading his thoughts.

Cullen swallowed. “Yes.” 

Evi rested her paw on his, purring softly. “Yes.”

A relieved, happy rumble slipped out. He was hers since they met, now he dared to voice what was purely a hope before. 

_Mine._

But there was more to tell her. Weres bonded for life, but life meant their life. If their bond-mate died, they would remain devoted, there would no one else, ever.

“Cullen,” she called, her voice caressing his name as she spoke. His mouth gaped as though to breathe in the sound. “This. Us. What is it?”

Cullen held Evi tighter as through afraid to lose her, inadvertently making her mewl. “Were-folk rarely bond together like this...” he paused, “...but when our kind become bond-mates…it’s for _life_.” 

She stared at him, blinking, thinking. He watched her, waiting. Then, her eyes smiled, and he knew.

 _A future with love and companionship, no longer alone. A future with a bond-mate who understands because she is the same. A future…with her._

Evi stared into deep into his eyes. “For life,” she pledged.

“For life,” Cullen swore, settling the side of his head against hers, musk from their scent glands mingling as they marked one another.

Her scent on him, the soft touch of her fur, her intense resonant purr as her body brushed against his, all combined to stimulate an overpowering hunger in him. His claws dug through her fur into her skin as he hauled her hard against him, breath hot and heavy, his control teetering on the brink. Suddenly she presented her throat, open and willing. 

The switch from intense hunger to a wild hunting frenzy came so rapidly he scarcely had time to thrust her away, out of his reach. 

Cullen fought the compulsion to strike with every fibre of his being, his human side desperately battling to curb and pacify the beast that desired only one thing. Her life. Slowly, steadily, a calm began to seep through him, driving down the blood rage. Only now did he notice she was motionless, watching him closely, her body poised to flee.

Finally, he was himself again. He deliberately closed his jaws to prove he was safe, catching her tense posture ease.

 _Maker forgive me, I could have killed her._ Whether she could forgive him was another thing.

His shoulders stooped, and he reached out to her tentatively, dreading her rejection. “Forgive me.”

She didn’t refuse, taking a step closer and putting her paw in his. “It was _my fault_ ,” she stressed. 

They gazed into each other’s eyes, amber meeting green, both sorry. 

“I can’t...not when changed…because…” he stumbled, unable to voice the awful truth. He could have taken the life of the woman he loved.

“…because you might kill me.” There was no blame in her tone, only sad acknowledgement of the danger. 

Neither of them could deny the powerful hunger between them. It might be because they were both were-kind, making their bond particularly strong. He didn’t know; the tales never spoke of this. As humans it would remain intense, but without the risks.

He raised his head. “But…when we’re human again...” he proposed, seeing her understand.

Cullen felt Evi gently stroke a single claw across his paw, a tender caress that soothed his worry. He bared his teeth carefully to signal this was pleasing. She blinked lazily, coming nearer.

“So,” she mused. “What _shall_ we do until the morning?” 

Cullen knew what they both needed to do, him especially. He glanced at the cave mouth. “As we both came here to hunt the bereskarn, maybe we should get to work?”

Evi threw back her head with an exquisitely poignant yowl, Cullen joining her with a deep commanding roar, their sounds echoing in the cave. Dropping onto all fours they rushed out of the cave together. Excitement for the hunt surged through them as they headed into the trees, immersed in light from a hunter’s moon.

The smells and sounds of his forest were familiar like an old friend, along with all the secret places he knew. Places he could now share with his bond-mate. The solitary existence he came to accept had turned into a life where they could experience _everything_ together. A legacy to pass on to their children.

 _It was weird where…_ he suddenly remembered the word Granna Mae would use, an old were-kind word for fate. 

Wyrd. 

_Perhaps this was my wyrd, to wait for her._ Cullen’s teeth bared into a smile. _And hers, to find me._

There was an unearthly roar in the distance, the sickly sound of a corrupted bear. A reminder of why they were here.

_Focus, Cullen, we have a job to do._


End file.
